It dropped blood at every step, but
Montague noticed that the men who passed it gave it no more than a
casual glance. When he passed the plate-mill again, he saw that it
was busy as ever; and when he went out at the front gate, he saw a
man who had been pointed out to him as the foreman of the mill,
engaged in picking another labourer from the group which was
standing about.
He returned to the president's office, and found that Mr. Andrews
had just arrived. A breeze was blowing through the office, but
Andrews, who was stout, was sitting in his chair with his coat and
vest off, vigorously wielding a palmleaf fan.
"How do you do, Mr. Montague?" he said. "Did you ever know such
heat? Sit down--you look done up."
"I have just seen an accident in the mills," said Montague.
"Oh!" said the other. "Too bad. But one finds that steel can't be
made without accidents. We had a blast-furnace explosion the other
day, and killed eight. They are mostly foreigners, though--'hunkies,'
they call them."
Then Andrews pressed a button, summoning his secretary.
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